Second Chance at Life
by Emmy6
Summary: What would have happened had Fantine not died of pnuemonia, well here it is! The story of Fantine continued...


Second Chance at Life  
  
Chapter One  
  
Monsieur le Mayor, Jean Valjean, stood gazing at Fantine, the tears pouring from his eyes. Her face, although no older than 24, had aged to that of a 70 year old woman. Her hair, once gloriously blond and curling, now hung lifeless and gray with only a hint of a dull yellow left behind. Her face, once sculpted like that of a marble statue of Venus, now was flabby and covered in spots and bruises, evidence from her hard-life that he, unintentionally, lead her to. Her lips once full and a vibrant red, were now pale and thin as a thread and her beloved 'pearls', her teeth, were now grimy and two were missing revealing bloody and infected gums. Her body was emaciated and her hands were thin and weak, and yet still something about her remained the age she was truly. Jean gazed at the woman, so much younger than he, and for once felt a stirring in his chest that he had only felt once, when he lived with his sister and her children in that small farming town of Favorolles near the city of Amiens. Something about Fantine had intrigued him when he saw her in Javert's office, her piteous form kneeling in front of Javert, tears streaming down her white cheeks, muttering for the good Lord to save her. Upon seeing him speak in her defense, she tore away from the guards that held either of her thin arms and walked over to him and laughed and spit in his face. Of course this didn't insult his masculine pride whatsoever, what hurt mostly was that he was the cause of her agony and her current situation. The fight between Javert and he lasted for what seemed like days, until finally he achieved the upper hand and won Fantine's freedom. Fantine in her delirious shock clutched at her breast with a gasp and fell to the floor in a faint.  
  
A stirring woke him from his reverie and he gazed down at Fantine's blue eyes, the only thing left of her beauty, staring at him with a kind of fevered peace and ecstasy.  
  
"Monsieur Madeleine, you've come. I saw you, you know, in my sleep. I could see you bring my darling baby to me. Oh tell me Monsieur, where is she? May I see her? Oh how I long to see my baby Cosette, with her lovely ivory hands. They are no bigger than this, Monsieur Madeleine. Look", here she held up her hand and pointed to the palm. "She has my eyes you know, although she has none of my. well. what used to be my blond hair, she has hair the colour of the morning. A beautiful deep red, like that of a rose with little streaks of brown in it. She was my pride and joy you know? She was my tender child. oh how I adore her."  
  
He took her hand in his and kissed it, which brought a crimson blush to her white cheeks. "I know my child, you will see her soon. But you need to get stronger; you are still very weak and ill. I want you to be strong and healthy when you see her."  
  
Fantine nodded, raising herself to sit up to face him. "Yes Monsieur Madeleine, I understand. But how I longed to see my baby. I long for her as a bird longs to fly. She is my soul, my life, and my treasure. I will do anything to get better and see her again. I don't intend to leave my baby ever again". Here she rubbed the cross around her neck and gazed out the window at the tree just outside, flowering blooms on it.  
  
He knew Fantine needed help immediately and as soon as possible for her condition. Her lungs had grown weak with bronchial pneumonia, caused partly by the fact she nursed her baby and that she lived in poor conditions since she lost her job at the factory. Damnation, he thought to himself. I let her get to this stage. She lost her money, her job, her beauty, and her teeth, all to help her child. I wonder why and how she would have risen the money, if she hadn't a sous left to her.  
  
Fantine looked back at Monsieur Madeleine and smiled, "I sold everything, Monsieur Madeleine. When those retched ladies fired me, which I thought you told them to do, I had indeed nothing to send the Thenardiers, only the one sous I had left in my pocket which was to buy my bread for the day. So I sold my furniture, except for a straw mattress to sleep and a crate to eat my bread by. I hadn't much of anything, but whatever I had I sold. Then when that wasn't enough, I went to the pier and sold my bagatelle necklace, a gift from when I was a child from the man I worked for. The only present I ever received in my life, till my Cosette came. But then that wasn't enough I needed another five francs to get to fifteen francs to buy a shawl for my baby. They, the Thenardiers, said she had taken ill and had no clothes to keep her warm anymore during her fever, so I decided to sell my gold", here she pointed to her shorn head cut almost to the scalp where her once golden curls once crowned her head. "But then that wasn't enough, I also had to pay a further 10 francs to pay for her medicine. I wonder why they didn't have enough for it, must have fallen on bad times you know. Well anyway, I was walking in the street when a man came to me and said he would give me two Napoleons for my two teeth, he said he would give me the money if I gave my two incisors to him. I agreed and he pulled them out, how dreadful that was! My mouth was stained with blood and I looked as though I had bitten someone on the neck like a vampire. But I received the money nonetheless and I sent the money to them. I clothed my baby with my hair, necklace, and my two teeth. She would be warm and better in no time. But immediately, they sent me another bill that the fever had taken onto military fever. I was desperate Monsieur, you see. I had nothing left so all I could do was avail myself as a whore to the bastards who lived on the street. I was never more ashamed and never more worthy of the right to be as I was. I was taken and viciously had and then I was abandoned. I became with child a short time afterwards; the father was a street musician, who beat me when I refused to not love him, as I loved only my darling Cosette. Horror of horrors to become with a child from a man I didn't love anymore than I hate Monsieur Javert. I felt so empty and prayed to God to save me from that. I lost the baby quickly afterwards, but I was happy I did loose it, Monsieur le Mayor. It wasn't even a baby, nothing more than a lump of bloody flesh. I did the honorable thing though and had it buried in the church's grounds, but I left it no name or anything, as it wasn't even a baby. I still had only 5 francs from that musician so I went on to other men, earning meager amounts Monsieur Madeleiene, but it wasn't enough so I left my flat. I called it a flat but it was no more than a room in a hovel, but for a while it was my dear little home. I sold everything and turned to the street, which is where that retched Monsieur Bamatabois put snow down my back. Oh it was horrible!" 


End file.
